Big Bad Voodoo
by Noone
Summary: Spike discusses an event from his past with the Council of Watchers woman


Acknowledgments - This is my first fic and I'd like to thank my lovely beta readers: Paul, English_Rose, Spikeaddict, Hannalee 

Acknowledgments - This is my first fic and I'd like to thank my lovely beta readers: Paul, English_Rose, Spikeaddict, Hannalee and FullMoon. And thanks to Zero and all the inspiring and wonderful folk at JamesMarsters.com 

Disclaimer - Spike isn't mine and never will be, sob! I don't own Jimmy Hendrix either or his song Voodoo Chile which is the soundtrack to this fanfic (it's the groove, not the lyrics, that's important here). 

Author's notes- The woman from the Council of Watchers gets a few moments private conversation with Spike. 

The flashback is set in 1970, San Francisco. I like to imagine Spike with fluffy blonde hair and dressed in tight leather hipsters and an old denim shirt, barely done up, but I can't breath if I do, so I have to stop

E.mail - nooneville@hotmail.com

Big Bad Voodoo by Noone

Baby, you want to hear about the Big Bad. You want me to tell you a story, well are you sitting cosy? Then I'll begin...

It wasn't my first time, but in some ways it felt like it. I had done it hundreds, if not thousands, of times before, but every now and again you get one that stands out from the rest. It's like, without knowing it, you're perfecting your art, honing your craft and all of a sudden you're able to make a leap to a higher level.

Well this was one of those times. It wasn't even as if I was looking for anyone, it's just that everything felt right, the perfect end to a perfect night, if you like. The streets were nearly empty, the air warm and I could see the full moon sliding down between the buildings. Then I saw her. She was some Hiawatha hippy-chick, all long hair, suede and love-beads, she was wearing so much animal skin I felt asif I'd just found Bambi's bloody mother. So I watch her turn off the main street and I follow her into this alleyway. Just as I get a few feet away from her, the alley fills with light and I hear a window opening way above my head, then someone turns on a stereo and suddenly the sound of Hendrix's 'Voodoo Chile' fills the air.

The girl turns around and I smile and sort of move to the music as I walk towards her. Hippies! They loved all that sort of shit, so she smiles back and starts yabbering at me, all Groovy and Peace Man and I think, yeah, I'll have a piece of you luv! I got bored real quick, so I grab her wrists and 'course as soon as she sees my game-face she nearly passes out. Give her credit though, she tries to struggle, they always do, then she starts bleating and whining, like I give a damn. They haven't got a bloody clue, I mean the more they fight, the more they heighten their adrenalin-fear and it only deepens my desire to rip out their throats.

I get a closer grip on her and she faints. I feel the heat of her body press against mine and take a couple of seconds to enjoy the feeling. She was younger up close, all ripe, butter-soft skin, her neck and shoulders were bare and I sniffed her like a dog, breathing her in: patcouli oil, sweat, tobacco. I got the essence of her, a vanilla-musk woman-child and underneath that the warm metallic smell of her blood. I can see the pulse in her neck and follow its trail with my tongue, then retrace the path with a graze of my teeth. I take my first bite and feel the resistance as I penetrate her skin. Pushing further into the fibrous muscle I almost hear the 'pop' of ruptured vein and savour the release, as I taste her. 

Suddenly the atmosphere changes and I feel the air weigh me down. I pull away from her and move her to my side, circling the waist of her rag-doll body with one arm. The air-pressure shifts once more and I look down at her just as this fan of blood-spray arches up into space. I look around and it's as if time is hurtling past me at a million sodding miles a minute, only, between me and the girl, time has slowed down. I'm transfixed by the Moon spinning against the velvet sky, all it's silver faces changing second by second. It's only the smell of her that breaks that spell and I gaze at the arc of blood that's still suspended in the air. Sometimes your old human instincts take over and this happens to me now, I began to draw breath, desperate to drag air into my lungs. Breathing deep as I watch pinpricks of blood, thousands of them, revolve in space, circling, rotating - as big as planets - their crimson surface reflecting purple and gold. I listen to the sound of Hendrix and take in the sweet-salt perfume as the ruby-rain surrounds me. The blood-drops move round my head, slowly turning and on impact, exploding together mid-air, blossoming cardinal flowers, petals floating and falling. And finer, blood-dust sprays my skin, the burning caress of each droplet on my face causes me to close my eyes and relish each touch. I lick my lips to taste her ferrous heat and driven by a desperate need, thrust my hand into the girl's hair, pull her to me and sink my teeth into her neck and drink deep. Shivers of ecstasy pulsate through my body and shimmers of warmth rush through my veins. My engorged heart beats a pulse in my ears.

I drank her dry and then tried to drink some more. I let her limp body fall to the ground and felt the air around me shunt back into place. I stood there for a moment trying to take in what had happened. I looked up into the night sky, seeing the moon stilled, now tarnished and glowing red, I laughed, yeah, laughed my bloody head off. You know why? 'Cause, it's not what you're thinking - I wasn't drugged - what I'd gone through was what you could call an epiphany, I had a perfect understanding of what I was, a Master. At last I had full control of my power and could choose when and how to use it. Nothing would be the same again, after that. And I was right. I'd discovered a new found zeal and I left that alleyway elated. Yeah, it was special and, call me sentimental, but every time I hear Hendrix now, it kind of chokes me up, reminds me of one of the greatest moments of my un-life. 

Hey, you alright luv? You look a bit pale, was it something I said?

The End


End file.
